


The hand that feeds

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Loki - Freeform, Marvel - Freeform, noncon, servant and prince sexiness, you know that cliche
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 05:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20773256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: The reader has served the royal family for years, but her newest master may be too demanding.Warnings: noncon sex (fingering, oral, intercourse).This is dark!Loki and explicit. 18+ only.





	The hand that feeds

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yo! If you wanna leave a comment or kudos that would be chill. I just decided on a little Loki love today so I hope y'all enjoy!

No one thought the kingdom would stay the same in the wake of Odin’s death. No longer shrouded by the old king’s obstinacy or iron grip. But none had expected an absentee heir. The former prince had not been seen since his coronation. His golden hair topped with a crown even brighter.

It was rumoured he had gone to Midgard to win over the woman he loved. Others suggested he was off getting into his usual trouble. Many expected more of him now that he had inherited the throne, though not so many were truly surprised. Asgard’s ruling family had never been known for their integrity.

The only who seemed to benefit from his absence was the one who often suffered in his presence. Loki was left at the head of the council to sort out the daily duties and attend to whatever trouble rose in the realm. While his brother was away, he could play out his dreams of being king. Though, should Thor be away long enough, he might just stop playing at it.

Even now, Loki sat in front of the throne, forbidden by right to perch upon it. He was a placeholder, nothing more. You watched from your vigil at his shoulder. You had not stood there since the old king ruled. Several months since then. It felt like a lifetime.

Odin’s death marked the end of your tenure. First, you’d attended his wife but upon her demise, he kept you on. A reminder of his beloved. A loyal servant who nearly died in her defence gifted with preference for years of service. And it had all so easily dissolved upon the new king’s ascent. 

Until that day. 

As you prepared to tend to your new duties in the kitchen, Helga stopped you and took the kettle from your hands. Her square jaw was a sharp as ever as she gave her orders. She handed off the brass vessel to another and stared you down.

“Seems you have been called back to your former bearing,” She said. “The prince has need of a cup bearer this morning as he hears the people’s grievances. And judging by the crowd, he will be in sore need of wine.”

You set the large goblet and pitcher on a tray and set off for your duty. You did not miss it. Standing endlessly as you listened to the complaints of farmers and lords alike. The king’s, or in this case, the prince’s diplomatic, at times terse, response. 

Loki signalled you with two fingers when he was in need of a sip, more often a gulp. He didn’t look at you as you offered the cup or as he placed it back on your tray. Several times you had to angle yourself to catch the goblet. As the morning turned to afternoon, your feet ached. You’d quickly forgotten the toll of the task. Your hips, your knees, your arms from balancing the tray. You hid it all behind a servant’s mask.

At last, the day’s session came to an end. Loki stood and the servants and audience bowed as he did. Even as you dipped your head, you didn’t miss the glimmer of satisfaction in his emerald eyes. And he didn’t miss your glance. He squinted as he caught your errant gaze. You lowered your lashes and righted yourself.

He neared, his cape brushed along the toes of your slippers as he passed. “With me,” He said under his breath, “I should like some fresh wine.”

“Your highness,” You followed him through the door behind the throne.

“I’ll be in my solar.” He said curtly. “Bring enough for Lord Bjarke, as well.”

“Yes, your highness.” You replied.

He turned down the hall and left you to scurry away. His cloak flapped noisily around his long strides and seemed to echo around you as you turned the corner. You quickly rinsed his goblet and grabbed another. You went to the cellar and found a bottle of the Northern red. It was his favourite, you recalled from the nights he attended supper with Odin.

You were quick to arrive at his solar. You knocked and he called from within. You entered with the customary bow and he gestured to his desk. Lord Bjarke scratched his thick black beard as you set down the tray and poured their drinks. He seized his almost at once as Loki barely noticed your presence. You backed away courteously and neared the door.

“Stay,” He didn’t look at you, merely pointed to the corner to the right of him. “We may need more wine.”

“Oh we may,” Lord Bjarke guffawed as droplets glistened in his grey-streaked beard. “Maybe some ale.”

“Well, let’s attend to important matters before you get too deep in your cups,” Loki warned as he spread out a parchment and leaned over it. “Despite your rank, my lord, you cannot so openly infringe upon the royal forest.”

“Infringe, my prince, I was granted land for my service to your father.” Bjarke argued.

“You were but I have that grant right here,” Loki took another paper, “It does not include my family’s hunting grounds.”

He slid the deed across to Bjarke and reached for his goblet. He sniffed before he sipped. A slight curve of his lips as he set the cup aside. For a moment, his eyes strayed in your direction but he quickly corrected himself.

“No animals venture along that border. They are too meek for that.” Bjarke scoffed. “I see little issue in me expanding my crops.”

“I do. I’m sure my brother would too. And despite my father’s favour for you, if he were still alive, he’d very much have an issue with this.” Loki hissed. “And I suspect you know that, hence why you’ve waited until his death to trespass.”

“Trespass? No…I–” Bjarke stuttered.

“Yes,” Loki insisted. “So, I will give you two options, and let me warn you, my lord, I am not in the habit of lenience but I should allow you this one oversight. So, you can cease your trespass on royal land and we can drop the matter altogether or you can carry on and pay the crown eighty percent of your harvest for use of our land.” Loki smirked. “Oh, and of course a fine for the crime itself.”

“I–I think you forget yourself, my prince, you might be head of council but it does not make you king. As I recall, your brother wears the crown.” Bjarke snarled.

“And he has left his duty to me. I am his voice now and my will is his. So, you make your choice. Be gracious for the wealth you’ve already acquired, or insist on your greed and lose it. If it were a rainy day, I should make the choice for you.”

Bjarke grumbled and drained his cup. “I shall relent, my prince.” He stood and slammed down the goblet.

“Let’s not forget ourselves, my lord, I could have made this same offer in front of the people. Could’ve declared your crimes to the kingdom itself. Though, it wouldn’t have been much of an offer then.” Loki warned.

“Yes, your highness,” Bjarke swallowed his anger and bowed. You watched the man, named for the bear he resembled, stomp out of the chamber. His heavy boots could be heard as they faded on the other side of the door.

You stared at the carved wood. Parchment rustled along the desk as Loki resumed his work. His ring softly clinked against the goblet and you looked over as he leaned back in his chair. He stretched his legs out beneath the desk and hooked one over the other as he reclined lazily.

“You’re a clever one.” He mused as he glanced over at you.

“Your highness?” You wondered.

“The wine. Northern. You remember.” He grinned. “My own father never recalled, but you do.”

“With respect, your highness, your mother always made certain to have it stocked for you.” You replied. 

He nodded and took another drink. “My mother…” He repeated. “I heard a tale about you.”

“A tale?” You raised a brow.

“This kingdom is full of rumours, it is hard to know which to believe.” He finished the cup and set it down. He motioned for you to refill it. As you stepped forward, he watched you. “It is said you tried to save my mother.”

“I failed, your highness.” You set down the pitcher. “She was much braver than me.”

“My father liked you, too,” He carried on. “I recall that. Very fond of you, indeed.”

You tilted your head but said nothing.

“But my brother sent you back to the kitchens.” He shook his head. “Very unfortunate.”

“I am a servant. I go where I am bid.” You replied evenly.

“Loyal to a fault,” He remarked. “You are better than the kitchens.” He took another sip and swirled the wine in the cup, watching the small tidal he created within. “I am in need of a chambermaid.” 

He held your eyes as he drank. You stood in patient silence. A servant’s duty.

“So, you go where you are bid. I bid you in my chamber.” His eyes flared and he chuckled. “Pardon my poor wording.”

“Your highness.” You bowed and he focused on you. Trying to see past your facade.

“Well then, best be off to your new duties.” He said. “You will attend my supper as well. Tonight is a feast and I expect more of this.” He doffed his cup. 

With your dismissal, you left and hurried down the corridors. Helga would be unhappy with your re-assignment but you wouldn’t have to deal with her much.

-

You fell into your duties easily. They were familiar; second-nature. The only difference was Loki. He wasn’t much in his chambers; mostly his solar or the great hall. Yet, you were almost always in his presence. He kept you close, to refill his goblet or fetch him some other fancy.

You tidied his chambers, attended his plate, and saw to the order of his solar. Thor remained gone and Loki remained as he was. Overworked and overjoyed. He basked in his temporary power, at times, you thought, a bit too much. At other times, you saw his mother in him. He was pensive, often quiet, but his menace set him apart.

You could see it in his eyes. He read other people; measured them and how he could use them. You could tell he was still trying to do so with you. You caught him staring at you at times. Others, he’d speak to you as he had that first day. Never happy with your answers, always pushing for more. It was harmless; it was Loki. You’d seen him do the same to his own blood. His little games.

The day had been tense. Loki met with Odin’s old master of war, Lord Eadric. The grizzled veteran was unhappy with the new king’s absence. Unhappy with the prince’s work. He shared Odin’s distrust for the dark-haired son. Their meeting turned to raised voices and spilled wine.

You stood in the corner as Eadric stormed from the room. The door shook in its frame. The old man was stronger than he looked. Loki gripped the edge of his desk as he sat. Wine dripped down the wood and his angry breaths filled the silence. 

You righted the pitcher that had been overturned and took the cloth from your apron pocket. You wiped the desk and bent to clean the floor. You mopped up the mess and sensed his gaze on you. You looked up as Loki watched you. His features had softened and he no longer looked so angry. You turned back to your work and stood as you finished up.

“Thank you,” He said quietly as he rubbed his forehead. “I think I will take my supper alone. In my chamber.”

“Your highness.” It was an order. Most of his words were. 

You bowed and left him, the wet cloth in hand. The door closed behind you and was followed by the sound of metal on stone. He had thrown the goblet. You retreated quickly away from his solar and sought out the kitchens. You were not eager to return to the agitated prince.

You tossed the cloth in the hamper meant for dish towels and grabbed a tray from the stack. You loaded up a platter and placed a lid over it. You stopped by the cellars for a bottle of Northern red and carried on to the prince’s chambers. He often ate in his solar or at the feast table with the court. It was best he keep to himself after such a display.

You set down the tray as you entered and lit the lanterns one at a time. His receiving chamber was large but cozy. A black bear skin before the hearth, a velvet chaise atop it. You carried the tray to the round table and set the wine beside it. You knelt to stoke the fireplace before you tended to the chamber.

It was already tidy. Your work was truly minimal. Loki didn’t leave much of a mess. You knew, however, if you left, he would be unhappy. You had done so one night on the presumption that your duties were finished and he had reprimanded you for it the next day. And the day after. He made sure you learned your lessons well.

You waited by the wall. You stood patiently as they time passed slowly and cursed your fortune. Among servants, your position was an envied one but it was just as tedious as any other. 

When the door opened, you were ready to close your eyes and attempt to doze upright. Loki swept in and you greeted him with a bow.

“Wine,” He demanded as he pulled his chair out and sat heavily.

You neared the table and poured the wine steadily. You corked the bottle and set it back down. He took it swiftly and drank deeply. It was half-empty when he drew it away from his lips. You remained close, ready for his next order. 

He licked his lips and looked up at you. His green as twinkled as if he only just recalled your presence. He considered you as his brows twitched.

“Sit,” He waved to the chair in front of you. You looked down at it but didn’t move. He waited and repeated himself tersely. You pulled the chair out and sat lightly. His mother had let you sit with her but never Odin, or any other. He put the cup down and slid it over to you. “Have a drink.”

“Your highness,” You protested. “It is against palace rules for servants to indulge.”

“I said drink,” He commanded. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your marm.”

You blinked and grabbed the goblet by the stem. You looked into the dark depths of the wine. You sipped from the golden rim daintily and placed it back on the table. He scoffed and shook his head.

“Finish it,” He said. 

You resisted a frown and took the cup once more. You brought it to your lips and he pushed the bottom of it up as you drank. You drained it and coughed as he finally let you pull it away. He took the goblet as you wiped your mouth with your sleeve and he chuckled.

“Are you hungry?” He asked as he removed the lid from the platter. 

“No.” You answered, your throat still seared from the alcohol. “Thank you.”

“Very well,” He accepted and speared a carrot with his fork. “Heimdall says Thor should return shortly. Who knows how long he’ll remain though.”

You nodded and kept quiet. He looked up from his plate and watched you as he chewed. He swallowed and smirked.

“Don’t you ever get bored of it? Watching others eat and drink and whine? Cleaning up after them?” He asked.

“That’s my duty, your highness.” You replied flatly. “As you have yours.”

He nodded and took another bite. He ate as you saw the thoughts bounce across his face. His jaw tensed and the vein stuck out on his forehead. He finished and replaced the lid on the platter. He refilled his own cup and drank from it deeply.

“You may clean this up,” He motioned to the dishes. “And fetch another bottle and a cup for yourself.”

You rose without argument. He wasn’t of the mood for it, not that he ever was. You gathered the platter and cutlery on the tray and swept from the room. You grabbed a second bottle of red and another goblet and headed back. You dreaded your return. 

When you entered, Loki was stood by the hearth. His hand was on the mantle as he stared into the flames. You set down your wares and waited for him to speak. He barely seemed to notice your presence. His fingers tapped on the stone ledge and he turned suddenly.

“Remove my cloak for me.” He commanded.

You neared and he stood still for you. You unclasped the green cape from each shoulder as he watched your hands. You draped it over your arm and left him to hang it on its hook along the wall. You heard the chair scrape on the floor as he sat again and you turned back.

“Another drink,” He insisted.

You went to the table and poured him a cup. He pushed the other up for you to fill. He took his goblet and pointed to the other chair. You sat and he handed you the second cup. He clinked his against yours and took a gulp. You mimicked him, the wine bitter on your tongue.

“I’d think servants would be more in need of a drink than nobles,” He commented. “I don’t know how you bear us.”

“Barely,” You returned without thinking. You clasped your lips shut and set down your cup.

He chuckled and drank some more. “You are…amusing, dear.” He emptied his goblet and placed it on the table. “I see why my mother liked you.”

He stood and stretched his arms as he stepped away. He yawned and paced the perimeter of the room. You made to rise and he stopped you with a raised hand.

“Ah. Finish your wine.” He ordered. “Then you may assist me in retiring for the night.”

You looked over at him as he continued to stride along the room. He watched you and smirked. He nodded for you drink and you lifted the cup. You took large gulps, each swallow easier than the last. You held in a belch and set aside the goblet. Your cheeks were warm and your head felt fuzzy.

Loki came up just behind you and leaned over you to check your cup. He touched your shoulder and backed away. “Very well, then. I should like a bath drawn.”

“Your highness,” You stood a bit too quick and grabbed the table. 

You righted yourself and turned to pass him as he stood by the door to the bedroom. You swept into the bath chamber and worked the pump until it began to spew hot water. You stepped back and turned as Loki entered behind you. His eyes followed your movement and he began to undo the clasps along the chest of his jacket.

“Towel,” He said. “You shall attend to my bath this evening.”

You bowed your head, the words caught in your throat. You went to the bedchamber and grabbed a towel from the closet. You returned to the bath chamber and blanched. You almost stumbled as Loki’s pale ass greeted you. He stood in the large round tub, naked, and lowered himself with a groan against the side of the basin.

You hung the towel on the rod and kept your eyes on the floor as you turned. You folded your hands in front of you and listened to the water splash down. You could hear him moving around and you bit down on your tongue. A female servant attending a male noble in his bath was unseemly. Helga would say it was forbidden.

“You may turn the water off.” Loki declared.

You refused to look at him as you neared the large tub; big enough for six of him. You bent and twisted the faucet and straightened up. The steam dampened the front of your apron and you smoothed it out as you resumed your stance. You blinked as you tried to clear the fog from your head.

You could feel his eyes on you. The way he always watched you. You could not tell if it was spite or intrigue. Likely the former. You raised your eyes to his and he stared back. His arms were stretched over the rim of the basin as the steam rose up around him. 

“I hear the servants bathe in the river. Is that true?” He asked.

“We do,” You assured him. 

“Hmmm, I always thought to sneak down and see for myself…” He grinned. “Perhaps you’d be there?”

The heat spread from your cheeks and down your neck. Your chest filled with fire as you held his gaze; speechless. He chuckled to himself and it hung in the air. His eyes fell from yours.

“Join me.” He said.

“Your highness?” You glanced at the door.

“Get that grimy apron off and join me,” He repeated. 

Your mouth fell open. You clutched your hands together and gaped at him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. 

“I won’t tell you a third time.” He warned. 

It took a moment to find your strength. You pondered the door again. If you ran, would he come after you? Even if he didn’t, you were certain he’d have you not only out of his service, but out of the palace. You swallowed and reached back to untie your apron. Your fingers were clumsy as they tugged on the knots.

You lifted the apron over your head and sling it over the counter. You knelt to remove your sandals and kept your eyes on the tile. You unbuckled your belt and your plain gown fell loose. You placed the braided leather on your apron and slowly lifted the fabric along your legs. 

The more skin you bared, the more you trembled. When you bathed in the river, there were dozens around. But there had never been any princes. As you freed yourself from the gown, you looked up to find Loki’s eyes set on you. Your thigh-length shift did little to conceal your curves. You folded the dress up with the rest of your clothes.

“Go on,” He breathed.

You tensed and grabbed the hem of your shift. His gaze didn’t waver as you pulled it up and you braced yourself as you bared yourself to him entirely. You tossed the shift a top your dress and neared the tub.

You lifted your leg over the large circular basin and stepped inside. You tried not to look at Loki as you lowered yourself against the stone. You hugged your knees to your chest and hugged them shyly. The water shifted as he moved and you tried not to flinch.

He came up beside you, his arm behind you as his hand settled on your wrist. He gripped it firmly but did not pull. He leaned into you and his hot breath added to the steam. 

“Now, now, I know you’re not daft.” He purred and slowly moved your hand. Your legs fell and left you prone.

You bit your lip as he guided your hand further down. He pressed your palm to his cock and you winced. He pushed your fingers closed around him and you turned your face away from him. 

“Don’t let go.” He demanded. He removed his hand and grabbed your chin. He made you look at him as you clung to his cock. “Move your hand, dear. Up….” You slowly glided your hand along his length and he exhaled deeply, “Down…again. Oh yes.”

You kept the motion as he hugged you closer. His hand slipped from your chin and crawled along your throat. He cupped you breast and then the other. He played with them, fondled them, and tweaked your nipples before he bent to take one in his mouth. 

You pushed yourself against the marble desperately and let go of him. He growled against your flesh and grabbed your hand. He replaced it on his cock and nipped you. You whimpered and stroked him again. 

His hand went to your thighs and kneaded the flesh. His fingers dipped between them and you wriggled against him. He raised his head with a sneer. He leaned close and spoke in your ear. “Be a good servant and tend to your prince.” It was a threat. Serve your prince or serve no other. 

“Your highness,” Your voice was thin; scared.

He dragged his fingers along your folds and around your clit. He his lips to your temple as he breathed into your hair. He caressed you as your hand continued to play with him. His touch grew firmer, quicker, and stoked a new heat. You shuddered and closed your eyes. A dark laugh escaped his lips as he felt your body surrender.

His fingers slipped down and he pressed his palm to your clit. His fingers circled your entrance and slowly dipped inside. You gasp as he pushed deeper, curving to find your special place. You quivered as he moved his hand slowly. The friction along your bud added to the sensation.

You could barely keep your own hand moving as he played with you. He pulled back and his other hand stretched along your neck. He worked his fingers harder, faster, and the water rippled around you. Your breath hitched and you struggled to catch it as your core began to bloom. 

It swelled and swelled until you came suddenly, a pathetic mewl escaped your lips. In your rapture, your hand had still but gripped Loki tightly. He rocked his hips and pulled his fingers out. He brushed your hand away from his cock and stood. 

He moved in front of you and grabbed the back of your head. He forced you onto your knees and dragged you closer. You brought your hands up to push against his thighs but he was much too strong. Your arms shook as you struggled with him. Half-drunk and still awash in the afterglow. You were weak, senseless.

“Open up, dear,” He grabbed your chin with his other hand. “Don’t you know the punishment for a disobedient servant?”

Your eyes rounded. The thought of the leather strap flashed through your mind. You opened your mouth and he pushed inside. Your hands slipped down as he sank to the back of your throat. He went deeper until you gagged, and only allowed you a moment to steady yourself. 

He pulled you back and thrust back in just as quickly. He held you in place as he fucked your face and you splashed helplessly in the water. His grunts mixed with your gags and the stir of the water around you. He plunged down your throat and stopped. He shuddered and removed himself in a single motion.

He let go and you fell back, barely keeping your head from hitting the marble. You gasped and choked as you reached around you blindly and turned to crawl out of the tub. He caught your hips as you were halfway out. He pushed you against the marble so that you were bent over the edge and slapped your ass. You yelped and he did it again.

“Not so fast,” He taunted as his nails dug into your hip and his other pinched your ass. “My ever loyal servant, you know better than to leave before you are dismissed.”

His cock poked your ass and he guided it down. You squirmed and he held you against the tub as he rubbed along your entrance. You reached out for the floor, so far away. There was nothing else to latch onto. He pushed himself along your folds and spread your juices along the tip of his cock.

He aligned himself and delved into you. You swung out behind you and tried to push him away. He ignored your fingertips as they poked his hip. He bottomed out and you exclaimed. He was too much. Too big. It hurt and yet as he pulled back, your walls quaked. Delighted by the feel of him inside you.

He grabbed your arms as you struggled and pulled you back by your elbows. With your hips still against the basin, he thrust into you. Your back arched painfully as he restrained you and his wet flesh clapped against yours. You whined and whimpered with each plunge. The pain mingled with pleasure as your head spun in shock and confusion.

“Please,” You begged. “Please…”

“It is forbidden for a servant to lay with a noble.” He snarled as he fucked you harder and harder. His fingers grew tighter around your arms. “But, should anyone…find out…” He spoke between grunts, “Who do you think will suffer?” He growled and let go of your arms. 

You held yourself up against the tub and he rutted into you. His hand snaked around to play with your tit as his other hand squeezed your ass. 

“Not me. Fuck.” He panted as sped up. You hung your head and tried to fight the rapture as it rose within you. “Gods, you’re tight.”

You shook as you came. You bit down on your lip to keep from crying out. But he knew. He could see the ripple along your spine and the tremble in your thighs. He slammed into you harder and moved his hands to your hips. He clung to you as his thrusts turned spasmodic and his voice rose in a snarl.

He pulled out of you and spilled his seed down your thigh. He rubbed his cock along your skin to spread his cum and smacked your ass again. He backed away and your arms collapsed. You slid down into the water; breathless against the marble as you looked up at him in a haze.

“It won’t be so bad, my pet,” He bent and caressed your cheek, “A favoured servant earns certain favours.”


End file.
